


You Are My Religion

by shamusandstone (theleaveswant)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-30
Updated: 2009-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-09 03:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/shamusandstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time he saw Elle, dressed in white with sunlight glowing through her pale hair as she loosed the rope from around his neck, Gabriel thought she was an angel. He knew better now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are My Religion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [superkappa](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=superkappa).



> For Kink Bingo 2009, prompt "worship". Contains religious symbolism, hand fetish, electricity play; references murder &amp; attempted suicide by hanging (canon). I'm not now nor ever was a Catholic, so apologies for any errors and no offense intended. During 3x08. For superkappa, improved by mollivanders.

God has forgiven me, Virginia Gray used to tell her son whenever she felt that he wasn't getting to church often enough. He can forgive you too, but you have to make an effort. Prove that you're devoted, that you're deserving. Prove that you love Him.

When she said that, Gabriel always used to wonder what, specifically, his mother had done to require forgiveness. He didn't wonder that anymore though, not since he'd discovered in gory and irreversible detail the sin he himself was capable of. Now he didn't want to know.

Besides, Gabriel didn't think he'd be turning to God again any time soon. For one thing, murdering a man and stealing his telekinetic abilities was a pretty tall order on the forgiveness front. His presence of mind at the time of the incident, and therefore his eligibility for mortal sin, was debatable, but he doubted confession and a handful of Hail Marys was going to cover it.

For another, while it may have meant smashing the commandments against blasphemy and idolatry on top of those against coveting, stealing and killing, Gabriel had already found his Savior. She had saved his life, anyway, this waif of a girl who'd crashed into his world without warning only a day earlier, and he was prepared to leave his soul to her discretion.  
*  
The first time he saw Elle, dressed in white with sunlight glowing through her pale hair as she loosed the rope from around his neck, Gabriel thought she was an angel. Though his vision cleared and he recognized her for a girl, the feeling remained that there was something different about her, something divine.

He felt the touch of grace again the following afternoon, when she squeezed his hand and told him he was special, just the way he was. He'd gasped then like it was the first breath he'd drawn since the chair fell and the noose tightened.

"You really mean that," he'd said, awed, studying her face intently. It clearly made her nervous and she left abruptly. Gabriel spent the next hour berating himself for being creepy—what was he thinking, showing her his (stolen) ability, or leaving that glaringly obsessive map out where she could see it? He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the knock, more insistent than before but somehow still undoubtedly her.

She brushed past him into the apartment, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body, too hot to be mortal. He had his mouth open to apologize when she wheeled to face him, seeking _his_ forgiveness for misleading him earlier, for running out before either of them could say anything incriminating, and for her complicity in setting up the surveillance operation in the first place. She told him that she worked for a Company interested in people with abilities, that she was assigned to observe his in action, to watch him take another power—to watch him kill. She warned him that when she came back for dinner the next night, as arranged, her partner would again be watching and they would be joined by another person with abilities—just a kid, an art school dropout. She urged him not to take the bait.

He asked her why she was telling him all this, confessing to him as if he had the power to absolve her when she clearly knew all about his own transgressions.

"Because it's not fair. They're trying to set you up. I thought, if you knew, if you had a choice . . . I meant what I said before. You don't have to give them what they want."

"When my mother says I'm special it means she's disappointed in me. She says it a lot."

She sneered at the wall, "She sounds like my dad." Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. Her hair was loose again, backlit by the window, but this time she didn't look angelic. She looked like a goddess, a warrior, Pallas Athene.

"What can you do?" She blinked, startled. "The rope breaking—that wasn't a sign or an accident, was it? You did something. Show me?" He swallowed, ashamed at his impertinence, then added breathlessly, "please?"

Elle drew a breath, hesitated, then slowly raised her hands and opened her fists to reveal crackling electric discharge, shimmering blue and bright in the darkening room. Gabriel gasped, falling to his knees before her. He raised his own hands tentatively, and she snapped hers shut, pressing them tight against her chest.

"It's beautiful."

"Beautiful?" She laughed bitterly. "The only thing this power is good for is destruction. I've killed people with it, caused fires, blackouts . . . it's death."

"But it's life, too! Electrical impulses are vital to the activity of the synapses, of all the cells in the body. Electricity holds together every atom in the universe. This is the light of creation."

He reached for her again, asked "may I?" before gently taking hold of her wrists, unfolding her arms and drawing her hands towards his face. She swallowed and he could feel her trembling, but she allowed him to crawl his fingers into her closed hands, pressing them open like blossoming roses.

He rubbed his thumbs against her palms, moved his fingers up to her knuckles, massaging. "Bless me," he said, looking up into her eyes, offering her his adoration, praying for her favor, and, looking down into his, she did. He gasped again as the sparks leaped from her skin to his, prickled and stung like a handful of thorns. She sighed, smiled a little, as if letting this energy out into something solid, grounding it, was a release she'd abstained from for too long.

He ran his hands over and through hers, moaning with the unimagined thrill of it, then laid her burning palms against his cheeks. He didn't even realize that he was muttering scraps of liturgy until he felt his lips moving, dragging against the pads of her thumbs. "Deliver us from every evil, and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior."

The miraculous glow seemed now to light up her whole body, her eyes closed and head tilted back as he freed her hands to explore his face, knocking his glasses to the floor. If she trembled now, it was with the animation of something other than fright.

"For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, now and forever."

Her left hand found the top of his head, closing on his hair and pulling hard.

"I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed."

The first two fingers of her right hand pressed against his lips and he opened his mouth as if waiting to receive the Sacrament. She granted him her own Communion, laid those fingers on his tongue and with a giggle and a moan fed him with her light, her flesh and her vitality.

The first time he saw Elle, dressed in white with sunlight glowing through her pale hair as she loosed the rope from around his neck, Gabriel thought she was an angel. He knew better now. She was sin and redemption and she was here.

As Gabriel knelt, shaking with the glory of her presence, Elle withdrew her fingers and drew a cross on his forehead, marking him with his own saliva. She leaned in, whispering with her lips against that spot: "Amen. Kinky bastard."


End file.
